


Guardian of Brooklyn

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9505637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Steve becomes the new night guard at the Museum of Natural History, and gets more than he bargained for.Or, the Night at the Museum AU that nobody asked for and that should have been written a long time ago.





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [krycekasks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/krycekasks/gifts).



_I did not sign up for this._ Steve thought, running for his life from the Tyrannosaurus Rex. He saw a niche in the wall and ran to it, squeezing himself between two drinking fountains. The skeleton slowed to a walk, sniffing the air for any scent of Steve, who held his breath as the dinosaur’s crunching footfalls came closer. A sound like water drew Steve’s eyes to the floor, and he held back a string of curses as the mutt finished his business.

“Really?” Steve whispered as the dog scampered away. The T. rex saw the dog and chased him into the Hall of the Twentieth Century. Steve came out of his hiding spot, following the dinosaur when he heard a shrill whistle. He turned around to see a group of gangsters walking toward him.

“Hey, look, I don’t want any trouble.” Steve raised his arms.

“Oh, no trouble.” The man in front, who Steve figured was the leader, said. “Just looking for my dog is all. You haven’t seen him around, have you?”

“Actually I-”

“I found your dumb dog, Barton.” A voice, heavily accented with Russian, came from behind Steve. He turned around to see a young girl, no more than seventeen at most, walking toward the men, leading the brown dog by a rope tied around his neck.

“Ah, thank you doll.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

Barton untied the dog before turning to his men. “Let’s go.” He snapped his fingers. “Come on, Lucky.” The dog trotted down after the men, disappearing around the corner.

Steve turned around, and found the girl walking down the hall. “Wait.” He caught up with her. “Thank you.”

The girl laughed, her long red hair held back by an elegant white headdress. “For what?”

“For catching that dog for me.”

The girl laughed again. It was a sweet sound, like a windchime blown by a gentle breeze. “It was nothing. Barton can be a real _nepriyatnost'_ sometimes, you’ll see.”

Steve nodded, understanding most of what she said. “I’m sorry, what did you say Barton is?”

“A _nepriyatnost'_ , a nuisance.” The girl stopped in front of a large diorama. It was covered in black velvet, with four chairs seated with a striped upholstery. A family was gathered inside the diorama; a bearded and mustachioed man sat near the center wearing a uniform; an unamused and tired-looking woman sat to his right, dressed in a fine white dress with pearls, a little crown nestled among her dark curls. Behind and around the couple sat and stood three girls and a boy, all dressed in fine clothing. The girl climbed up inside the diorama, looping an arm around the boy as she sat next to him. He looped an arm around her in return.

Steve smiled. _This must be her family._ He thought, as he walked to the little plaque mounted on the wall to the right of the diorama.

_On July 17th, 1918, the three-hundred-four-year-old Romanov dynasty of Russia came to a close when the family was executed by Yakov Yurovsky and Peter Ermakov, along with an execution squad. Although popular, rumors of the youngest Romanov, seventeen-year-old Anastasia, surviving the execution are false, as DNA tests have proven that the entire royal family was killed on that fateful day._

_Oh._ Steve walked back to the diorama. “Are…are you Anastasia?”

The girl nodded.

“And this is your family.”

Anastasia nodded again.

“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Stepan.” The girl laughed, and her family laughed too. “What is your father’s name?”

Steve frowned, casting his eyes down. “His name was Joseph.”

“Then we shall call you Stepan Osipich.” Anastasia proclaimed.

Steve looked back at her. “You may call me what you like, Grand Duchess.” He bowed before walking down the hall, hunting for that darned T. rex.

He turned a corner, walking past a series of smaller dioramas. Nothing seemed out of place, until he was hit with a series of small spears, all of them no bigger than cotton swabs and no more harmful than toothpicks. Still, they hurt when Steve pulled them from his face and hands.

“Over here! We’ve got you now!”

Steve turned around in a quick series of circles. “Who said that?”

“Down here!” A tiny figure wearing a coyote skin waved at Steve, who squatted to eye level with the small man.

“My name’s Necalli, man. And bruh, you’re huge. And I mean like _huge_ huge, you know? Like I thought my cousin Coyotl was big. Sorry about the _teputzopilli_. Hey guys, knock it off!”

The warriors stopped throwing spears at Steve, who unstuck the remaining ones from his hands.

“Thanks Necalli.”

“Hey, least I could do.”

A man stood up from the corn that Necalli stood in front of. “Hey, thanks for hiding me.” The man wore the clothing of a cowboy from the Old West.

“No problem, man. Oh, _cozauhqui_ this is Scott. Scott, _cozauhqui_. Scott’s from the Old West diorama across the room.” Necalli explained.

Steve looked across the room. There was an Old West diorama, with the sheriff and deputy mounting a manhunt for a wanted criminal.

“Are you--?” Steve frowned, pointing to the diorama, and Scott nodded.

“Yeah, I maybe stole a couple purses. And robbed a bank. And punched the deputy in a drunken bar fight. So now I’m here, safe, in Mexico.”

“And you think running away will help solve all your problems?”

"Well, yeah." Scott shrugged. "It's worked all this time."

A roar from down the hall caught Steve’s attention before he could respond. He ran down the hall, only to come face to face with the T. rex.

“Come on, just go back to the front of the museum. Then I can leave, and get a couple minutes of shut eye before going back to the commissions I currently have in progress. It’s a win-win situation.”

The T. rex shook its tail like a dog and walked down the hall, towards the front of the museum. Steve followed behind it slowly, pausing occasionally to make sure other exhibits were getting back to their original positions.

Bartons’ gang was back in their diorama in the Hall of the Twentieth Century, as were the Romanovs, though only Anastasia seemed to go anywhere.

Steve was turning a corner when the dinosaur’s tail whacked him in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He felt himself being brought into a sitting position, and looked to see a man about his age kneeling down beside him, his hands supporting Steve’s back and chest.

“Are you alright? That was quite a fall you took.” The man’s hair was worn at shoulder length, and had been curled. He wore boots that went up to his knee, with the tops turned down. A shirt done in blackwork and a pair of hose, with breeches worn over them, seemed to finish the look.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Steve brushed himself off and stood. “Who, may I ask, are you?”

The man stood an inch above Steve, as the heels of his boots gave him an unfair advantage.

“I am James the Sixth of Scotland, and the First of England and Ireland.” The king puffed his chest out a bit, as if doing so would make him even more important.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, Your Majesty, but I have a dinosaur to keep track of. You should be getting back to your own diorama, it’s almost dawn and I don’t want Fury to yell at me.” Steve ran down the hall, following the sound of the T. rex’s footfalls.

The dinosaur had climbed up on its pedestal and was assuming a roaring position by the time Steve caught up with it. As dawn broke, Steve breathed a sigh of relief. He had survived his first night at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pictured the Romanovs' diorama would look like a combination of [these](http://www.periodistadigital.com/imagenes/2015/11/09/el-zar-nicolas-ii-y-su-familia-antes-de-ser-fusilados-por-los-bolcheviques.jpg) [three](http://static2.businessinsider.com/image/56119f6e9dd7cc17008bf261-4295-3221/family_nicholas_ii_of_russia_ca._1914.jpg) [photographs](http://www.lacentral.com/blog-imgs/20161123171848_romanov.jpg), with the children wearing their court [clothing](http://img.gagdaily.com/uploads/posts/edu/2013/00001b1a_big.jpg).
> 
> Cozauhqui is the Nahuatl word for blond, so Luis is essentially calling Steve "blondie".


	2. Fury Road

“Rogers, what is _this_?”

Steve ran over to where Fury stood, next to the Mexican scene in the Hall of Small Civilizations. Fury held Scott in one hand, the tiny figurine frozen in a crouching position.

“He was hiding from the sheriff.” Steve knew it sounded crazy.

Fury didn’t look convinced. “In ancient Mexico?”

“Yes?” Steve said sheepishly. “Look, Mr Fury-” Steve followed Fury across the room to the Old West scene.

“Director.” Fury set Scott down behind the prison.

“Director Fury, I know this will sound crazy but it’s true. The museum came alive last night.”

“Yeah, and I’m Jules Winnfield.” Fury moved on to the next hallway. Steve walked by his side.

“No, Director Fury, it’s true. You know the dog from the Hall of the Twentieth Century? His name is Lucky and last night he peed on me and then when Barton went looking for him, Anastasia brought him back. And the T. rex from the front? It chased me down the hall.”

Fury stopped walking and turned to Steve. “Alright Rogers, I’ll believe you this once. But if I hear this stuff tomorrow, you’re finished.”

Steve nodded. “Yes sir.”

\--

Steve returned to the museum just before closing time that night. He made his rounds, checking to make sure that everything and everyone was in their proper place. He had just finished sweeping through the Hall of African Cultures when he heard the thudding footfalls of the T. rex.

“Oh come on!” Steve ran down three halls and two flights of stone steps until he reached the dinosaur.

“ _D’yavol, stoy_.”

Anastasia stood behind the T. rex, and the skeleton turned around and walked to her. Steve ducked out of the way of its tail before catching up with the Grand Duchess.

“What did you say to it?” Steve glanced warily at the skeleton.

“Him. His name is Devil. I just told him to stop. Once he gets to know you, he’s very loyal.” Anastasia patted the dinosaur’s chest bones. “He’s a good boy.”

They stopped at Devil’s pedestal.

“And he understands Russian?” Steve reached a hand up to stroke Devil’s side.

Anastasia shrugged. “Just his name, and the word “stop”.”

“Grand Duchess?”

Anastasia turned around at the sound of her name.

“Your Majesty.”

The young girl ran to the king, and the two embraced. James was the first to speak when they broke apart.

“It is good to see you again. How do you fare?”

Anastasia reached up and removed the headdress, allowing her red hair to cascade down her back. “As well as ever. And yourself?”

“As fine as I can be.” James then noticed Steve, who was stroking Devil’s head and talking to him softly in Irish.

“ _Buachaill maith_.” He smiled, the dinosaur wagged his tail.

“You there. You know me but I am not acquainted with you.”

Steve stopped talking to Devil, his hands going to his side. He bowed, as he had for Anastasia last night.

“My name is Steve Rogers, Your Majesty.”

“Steven.” The king raised his hand as he walked closer to Steve. “Have you ever been knighted?”

Steve straightened up. “No, sire.”

The king smiled. “Come with me.”

Steve followed James down the hall, looking back at Anastasia, who winked at him. As they walked past the Hall of Small Civilizations, Steve heard Necalli shouting.

“Get it, _cozauhqui_!” He whooped and spin around quickly, causing the bells he wore around his ankles to jangle wildly.

They stopped at one of the first dioramas in the Hall of Royalty. James looked around before stepping inside, but Steve stayed outside.

“Kneel, sir.”

Steve did as the king commanded. James drew a sword from a nearby table, placing the blade flat on Steve’s right shoulder.

“I dub thee Steven, Duke of Buckingham.” James moved the sword from right shoulder to left before replacing it on the table. “Rise, sir.”

Steve rose, and the king kissed him on both cheeks, catching Steve off guard.

“I’ve been looking for a new Duke for ages. Now, come.” James sat on his bed and began taking his boots off. When Steve didn’t join him, he looked up. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

“To do what?” Steve hadn’t moved since his knighting.

“The deed of darkness.” The king tucked a strand of hair behind his ear.

Steve’s heart skipped a beat as he cleared his throat. “Not tonight Your Majesty. Perhaps some other time.”

The king frowned as he put his boots back on. “Very well. Another night, then.” He rose from the bed, walking out of the diorama to stand next to Steve. “I wish to walk with you tonight. May I?”

Steve smiled. “Of course. Your Majesty may do whatever he pleases.” They started off down the hall.

“Everything, except go out during the day.”

“What happens then?”

“If any of the exhibits leave the museum when the sun shines, we turn to dust.”

Steve stopped walking. “Dust?”

“Dust.” James smiled. “I saw it happen to my mother’s cousin when I was in England.”

_So whatever makes everything come alive must have been in England too._ Steve thought. He checked his watch, seven o’clock. The sun would be rising any minute now.

Steve turned to James. “Your Majesty, you must get back to your diorama. The sun’ll be rising soon.”

“Walk back with me?”

“Of course.”

James climbed inside his diorama, placing one hand on the table and touching the other to a jewel hung on a chain around his neck. Steve watched as he froze in place, all sign of life fading like snow under the sun.

Steve made his rounds once more, ensuring that all the exhibits were in their proper places and positions. Scott was still on the run, Necalli was dancing. Anastasia had rejoined her family, and Devil was roaring on his pedestal. The sun rose, Steve sat at the front desk. It had been a long night at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buachaill maith is Irish for good boy


	3. Discovery Channel

“Steven!”

Steve turned at the sound of his name. James was walking toward him.

“You’ve returned.”

“Yes, and I’ve brought something I believe Your Majesty will find of interest.” Steve held up a book.

The king took it from him and flipped through it. He read a few pages before looking up at Steve.

“This is my Book of Common Prayer. How did you-?”

“Public library had a copy. I thought you’d like to see it again.”

There was shouting down the hall, and Steve ran off to see what happened, James following behind him.

A couple, dressed in the clothing of turn-of-the-century immigrants, was arguing in another language.

“ _On zabil náš svokor! On musí umrieť!_ ” The man sounded angry.

The girl, who seemed younger than the man, spoke in a calmer manner. “ _Nie, brat_.”

Steve approached them slowly. “What’s going on here?”

The man whirled around to face Steve, but the girl held him back.

“Pietro, _zasadrovanie_!”

The man stopped and turned back to the girl, who hugged him close. Steve turned to James, who stood next to him.

“Do you know-?” He jerked a thumb at the two.

“Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, Sokovian immigrants from the Hall of the Twentieth Century. They don’t speak any English, as you’ve probably figured out by now.”

Steve backed away slowly. “I’ll let them figure whatever it is they’re fighting about out. What makes the museum come to life every night?”

“I’ll show you.”

James took Steve to the back of the museum, to an exhibition hall Steve had never been in before. _I didn’t even know this was here. How could I miss an entire hall?_

Steve marveled at the weapons placed on the wall; axes, swords, shields. At the end of the exhibition stood a stone, seven feet tall, carved with a series of lines and pictures.

“What is this?” Steve reached up to trace the carvings.

“The Stenkvista runestone. It came here from Sweden after being on display in England. The magic carved within it brings us to life every night.” James stood by Steve, his voice soft as he explained.

“Hey _cozauhqui_ you better come see this. There’s some serious shit going on, man.” Necalli appeared at the Steve’s feet, climbing on his shoe. Steve bent down and offered his hand to the little warrior, who stepped on and held to Steve’s thumb as he was lifted to Steve’s shoulder.

“They’re at the doors, bruh.”

“Where’s Scott?” Steve headed to the front of the museum.

“I got him over to my diorama, he’s safer there than in his own. Oh, there they are!” Necalli stomped around, jangling the bells he wore around his ankles.

Steve squinted at the front doors. Sure enough, there were three figures trying to get into the museum.

“Don’t they know we’re closed?” Steve walked over to the doors, banging on them. “Hey, we’re closed!” The men looked at Steve, and it took him a minute to realise who they were. He unlocked one of the doors for them, ushering them inside.

“Mr Pierce, Rumlow, Rollins, come in. It took me a second, I didn’t recognize you under all that black. Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. Just thought we’d check up on the museum, see how everything’s doing. I see you’re still here.” Pierce noticed the king standing next to Steve, who shielded James from the old man by standing in front of him.

“Everything’s just fine. Thanks for stopping by.” Steve waved them off. Just before leaving, Pierce leaned into Steve.

“Watch out for that dinosaur. He’s got quite a bite.”

Steve forced a smile. “Will do.” He locked the door behind the trio. Then he noticed James’ face.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?”

The king looked at Steve, smiling as he did. “Yes, everything is fine.”

“Well, I’m going to the Hall of Small Civilizations. Your Majesty may come if he wishes to.”

Steve stopped at the Mexican scene and placed a hand in the sand, letting Necalli slide down his arm. Then he picked up Scott.

“Hey, put me down!” The little man struggled between Steve’s forefinger and thumb.

“No way, you’re going back to your own scene. If Fury sees you in Mexico, I’m toast.” Steve plopped Scott back in the dust of the Old West. “Sorry Scott.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. It had been an enlightening night at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we are only given a few canon words in Sokovian Cyrillic, I've used Slovak instead, as I headcanon Sokovia to be in between Slovakia and the Czech Republic.
> 
> On zabil náš svokor is he killed our father.
> 
> On musí umrieť is he must die.
> 
> Nie brat is no brother.
> 
> Zasadrovanie is a word for stop.
> 
> While the Stenkvista stone is real, it's still in Sweden, in the original spot where it was discovered.


	4. Outrun the Sun

“ _Cozauhqui_ , they’re back!” Necalli jumped up and down, jangling his ankle bells.

James appeared at Steve’s side. “Steven, the stone is gone.”

“If it is not back before sunrise-” Anastasia stood next to James.

“ _My bude všetko umriet’_.” Pietro spoke up, his sister at his side.

“Ok, everyone calm down.” Steve turned to Pietro. “I have no idea what you just said, but I’m going to assume it was bad news. Now,” he turned back to the group at large, “has anyone seen Barton?”

“He and Lucky went after them.” Anastasia patted Devil’s head.

“Ok.” Steve took a deep breath. “Devil, I’m going to need you, ok?” 

The T. rex roared in Steve’s direction.

“He means yes.” Anastasia explained.

“Alright. Everyone, stay here.” Steve walked to the hall at the end of the museum. The stone was gone, so how were the exhibits still alive?

Suddenly there was a crackle of thunder and a flash of lightning, and a man stood before Steve, dressed in armor.

“Who are you?” Steve asked cautiously, not knowing whether he was friend or foe.

“I am Thor, son of Odin and prince of Asgard.” Thor turned around, looking at the exhibit hall.

“I am Steve, son of Joseph, and I hail from Brooklyn.” Steve tried not to sound too uncertain.

Thor walked around the hall. “Steven, guardian of Brooklyn, I thank you for calling me to Midgard. Now, bestow upon me my hammer and I shall protect Midgard once more.” The god held out his hand expectantly.

“Uh, your hammer. About that. I would love to bestow it upon you, but I didn’t call you here and the stone that brings everyone to life is gone, and if it isn’t back by sunrise, bad things will happen.”

Thor turned around once more. “Ah, so it is. I suppose I have my little brother to thank for that.”

“What did he do?” Steve stepped closer to where the stone had been.

Thor turned to face Steve. “He stole my hammer, again.” The god did not look amused. “Then he placed some of his magic into that stone, so that it would bring inanimate beings to life at night.” He strode to the doorway. “Come, let us reclaim the stone.”

Steve followed the god out to a stone balcony that overlooked the main hall of the museum. All the exhibits were gathered there, talking about what to do. “Listen everybody!” Steve shouted over the din. Heads were turned up to look at him. Steve gestured to Thor. “This is Thor. His brother put magic in the stone that brings you guys to life every night. And if we don’t get it back, you will all-- how did Pietro put it?”

“ _My bude všetko umriet’_.”

“Thank you. Please don't hurt me.”

“Steven, I speak their language.” Thor leaned over the balcony and spoke. There was some yelling and Thor straightened up. “Pietro says you killed his father.”

“Tell him he’s made of wax and never had a father. Then tell him that he and his sister are going with you to look for the stone. I’m taking Anastasia, Devil, and James; the museum will be in T’Challa’s hands.” Steve headed down the stairs, grabbing James and Anastasia before reaching Devil, who stood waiting by the front doors.

“Just bend down, that’s it.” Steve hoisted himself onto the skeleton, sitting in the middle, where the bones were a bit bigger and could support his weight. “Alright, let’s go get that stone back.”

Devil roared and ran down the hall to a larger set of doors, which he crashed through. Steve held on for dear life as the T. rex tore up the snow covered streets of Manhattan, hot on the trail of the thieves, who had stolen a stagecoach. James rode behind the dinosaur, desperately trying to keep pace with one arm wrapped around Anastasia, who sat on his lap. They caught up with the stagecoach soon enough, Devil peeking his head through one of the windows and scaring Rumlow and Rollins, who both shrieked and nearly dropped the stone.

“Stop the horses, Pierce. You can’t control the stone.”

Pierce laughed, nasal and ugly. “Didn’t you read your history? These horses can’t be stopped.”

“Oh yeah? What if I say…Montana!”

The horses stopped, pitching Pierce forward into the snow. James brought the horse to a halt and he and Anastasia dismounted, each taking one of Pierce’s arms. Lucky run up, with Barton and his gang following behind. Devil bent down and Steve hopped off, just as Thor and the Maximoff twins found the group. Thor opened the carriage door and pulled Rumlow and Rollins out into the snow.

“Well done, Steven. You have proven yourself worthy of your title.” James patted Steve on the back as Steve tried to hide the blush that warmed his cheeks.

“Barton, take them back to the museum.” Steve pointed to Pierce and back at Rumlow and Rollins. “And, be gentle. We don’t want to hurt them too much.”

The old night guards were led away by the gang, protesting all the way. Thor, meanwhile, pulled the stone from the carriage and began dragging it back to the museum. The rest of the group walked back in silence, until they reached the front doors, where they began taking count of all the exhibits, ensuring that everyone was there.

“Steven.”

Steve turned from counting the zebras, handing the clipboard to Anastasia, who continued counting in Russian. Thor walked up to him, looking weary but happy. He clapped his hands on both Steve’s shoulders. Steve tried not to jump at the sudden weight.

“Thank you for getting back the stone, and for catching those responsible.” Thor removed his hands.

“Hey, no problem. I just didn’t want everyone to turn to dust.”

Steve received a sharp jab in the side. He turned and saw James. “All right, I’ll ask him.” He turned back to the god. “Uh, Thor. James wanted to know-- ow. Quit it, will ya? Sorry. _I_ wanted to know if there was a way to…maybe…take the stone with me?”

Thor looked at Steve, then at James and back at Steve. He made the connection fairly quickly. “Ah, I see. You’re attached. I’m sorry to say that the stone will remain in the museum as long as Fury decides to keep it. But, I can offer you this.” He held out a hand; a silver rod carved with lines hung on a silver chain. “It holds the same magic as the stone, and will allow James to live outside the museum, even during the day.”

Steve took the necklace, unclasping the chain and placing it around James’ neck. “What about your diorama?”

James smiled. “I have an idea.”

\--

“You see Director Fury? I wasn’t making anything up.”

“I can see that.” A lion walked past the Director, followed by Devil.

“However, we did have one fatality in the ensuing chase.” They came to stand in front of James’ empty diorama. “The king is gone.”

“I see. Well, we can get a new figure, although it will take about two weeks to make, and could take a week or so to get here from London. But, the museum would be incomplete without him.” Fury turned to Steve. “Now, where are those little men you were telling me about?”

“We’re right here.” Scott finished climbing up the back of Steve’s jacket, coming to stand on his left shoulder. Necalli was right behind him, standing on Steve’s right shoulder.

“ _Cozauhqui_ , you’re really tall, man. Could you, like, shrink or something?” Necalli wiped the sweat from his brow. “It’d make climbing a lot easier.”

Steve laughed, careful to keep his shoulders from shaking, lest Necalli and Scott fall.

\--

Steve returned to his apartment that night holding James’ hand. After James changed into a tee shirt and sweatpants and had a dinner of leftover takeout, the two fell asleep watching TV, their hands intertwined. As sleep came upon Steve, he pressed a kiss to James’ forehead. He hoped that he had had many fulfilling nights at the museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bude všetko umriet’ is Slovak for we will all die


End file.
